


Dr. Search and Mr. Hide

by Lachanophobic



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Humor, Porn With Plot, Romance, Short Chapters, Smut, Unpretentious multi-chapter because I wanted to write something different and light for once, Virtual Sex, text fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lachanophobic/pseuds/Lachanophobic
Summary: The internet is like an iceberg, the more you go deep underwater; the more it becomes dangerous.She works at the top.He works at the bottom.Sometimes, they cross swords and words.There's just a rule between them: they'll never meet.---[ Will get updates twice a week. ]
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Chi-Chi/Son Goku (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 85
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

_Anonymous_ requested a private room with _Wonder_Bloomer_.

 _Anonymous_ joined the chat.

**Wonder_Bloomer** : Mhh, a delicious mystery box. _How can I do you_ , sweetie? 

_Anonymous_ : I wonder.

 **Wonder_Bloomer:** No preferences? Fair enough. May I ask if you are a male or a female?

 _Anonymous_ : You may not.

 **Wonder_Bloomer:** As you wish, baby. Let's start with loosening all those knots on your back, okay? I'm pouring oil on my palms, can you smell the scent? It's sandalwood.

 _Anonymous:_ Logically not. 

**Wonder_Bloomer:** Of course you can't, hon. Look at how tense you are. Relax and close your eyes, I promise I'll make you feel good. Now focus on me, imagine my voice, it's sweet and rich and coming from behind you. Close to your earlobe. You have a nice scent. Did you just bathe?

 _Anonymous:_ No. 

**Wonder_Bloomer:** Mhhh, then it must be your natural odor. It's really arousing. After frictioning the oil, now I'm placing my hands on your shoulders. Can you feel them hot against your skin? I can feel your muscles, tracing deltoids. I'll tell you a secret. I'm not wearing a bra, so, as I massage you; the tips of my nipples are rubbing against your back. They're turgid. I'm really sensible there. Can you feel me?

 _Anonymous:_ No.

 _Anonymous:_ I'm not here for this.

 **Wonder_Bloomer:** Aren't you impatient? I like that. Do you want me to take it in my mouth?

 _Anonymous:_ No. I'm here to talk.

 **Wonder_Bloomer:** Talk? This is a first. But sure honey. What do you want to talk about? 

_Anonymous:_ Why are you doing this?

 **Wonder_Bloomer:** Because I'm here to give you pleasure.

 _Anonymous:_ Why are you doing this job?

 **Wonder_Bloomer:** Because I enjoy it, silly. 

_Anonymous:_ Enjoyable? Bullshit.

 **Wonder_Bloomer:** I cannot share personal information with customers, but you can try to guess. If you don't believe me.

 _Anonymous:_ Since I'm paying, you should reply to my questions.

 **Wonder_Bloomer:** You're right. Let's play a game, then. I will ask you something, just one question. If your reply correctly I'm going to make an exception just for you.

 _Anonymous:_ Fine.

 **Wonder_Bloomer:** Wonderful, darling. Thus, here's the question…

What are you doing here, _Vegeta_?

_Anonymous has left the chat._


	2. Chapter 2

A crack on the ceiling. Webs. Stamps of lights on the walls accompanied by the chaffing freight train of midnight. 

The bed creaking under his weight, fingers pulling at the sensitive skin between his legs with vigorous strokes. A groan. Twitching lips. His knee thumps against the gyp board as the nasty feeling of mounting satisfaction grips at his abdomen. Just a bit more on the right, yes, the angle now is perfect and he manages to cup his scrotum steadily, as he wants, scratching its surface until it bleeds and hurts with the same intensity of the orgasm that follows. A bass grunt is everything that fills the room. Eyes snap open. The lingering letters of her message in the back of his eyelids dissipate like oneiric mist as his conscience settles back into the routine. 

A crumpled Kleenex misses the trash bin.

He zips up his pants and straps the holster under his armpit. The barrel clicks twice and a door closes behind his back.

The air smells of rotten doughnuts. 

\---

_You have 4 messages_

_6:00_ ** _Apathetic Twat:_** Explain to me what that was.

 _6:04_ ** _Apathetic Twat:_** stalker

 _7:01_ ** _Apathetic Twat:_** next time stay a full hour so I won't get just 30 zeni for dealing with your psychotic ass

Unfocused, trembling eyes begging for life are staring at him just behind the screen of his cellphone.

 _7:05_ **_Apathetic Twat_ ** _:_ will you be on tonight?

His mouth curls up. A finger pulls the trigger while the other hand composes a message.

Blood sprays on the pristine wall and on his cheek.

 _7:10_ **_Vegeta_** : _Yes._


	3. Chapter 3

Taut legs wrapped in silk stretch among a pile of fluffy pillows, she thinks they're sexy legs. Nah, _everyone_ thinks so. Well, those who have seen them. 

Languid, she stirs from her sleep. It was a good sleep, one painted with x-rated dreams. "Mhnm…" she chuckles to herself, eyes opening slowly. "That was a new one." 

On the farthest side of the room there's a calendar. On the calendar there's a special day circled in red. She doesn't know why it's circled. Under the calendar there's a vase, in the vase there's a bouquet of… stems? 

Uhhh, what flowers were those again? Roses? Lilies? 

Who cares. She rolls onto one side. The warmness of the bed is all she needs now.

Lids feel heavy, oh so heavy… maybe she could just sleep a bit more. Five minutes. Ten… Twenty…

"Rise and shine bitch! We're packing."

A wild Chinese gal appears, slamming the door open and staring horrified at the room.

"Where are the boxes?!" 

"Where's the coffee?"

"Bulma… you know how much I love you, right?"

"Sure I do sweetie… see you later." Whatever she's replying to, can be acknowledged while she sleeps. 

The absence of a response, usually, is not a good sign. In fact, three seconds later a chilly wintry breeze seeps into the warmness of her bones, making her shiver. "Ow, come onnnnn." 

"You said you knew, so get up. We're moving to West City, where hopefully you find a real job and the nightmare of catching you with a plunger up your sorry pussy will finally leave my scarred mind." 

"Hey, _that's_ real work and that night I couldn't find Bubba." 

"Do me a favor? Stop giving names to your sex toys, stop sharing unnecessary information and get up _this moment._ "

Bulma drags her ass out the bed, and Chichi drags her trash out of the room. "Ew, this stinks. You're like the Belladonna, beautiful and dreadful. Especially dreadful." Her roommate, that looks so much like a doll with black straight hair, pinches her nose and kicks the plastic back in the hallway.

"Wow, you're heavy on the compliments this morning. Made love to some spiky haired dude or just fell for me?"

As expected, the other girl swirls on her heels, giving her the stink eye. "Neither. Oh no, wait… the first one. But it was in my dreams and he was a tycoon."

"Oh come onnn. Give him a chance. He's been after you since you were in college."

"Yes, _I_ was in college and he worked at Pizza Hut. No… wait, wait, wait. He ate at Pizza Hut and didn't work! Still doesn't. Why don't you grow up? Twenty-eight rhymes with _maturate_."

"Also with 'sexual mate'. Which you don't have but must because girl, you sooo need to get laid."

"I'm not _you._ I want a working husband, smart kids - two or three - and a lovely home."

"Straight out from a 50's mag. I'm so jealous! Also, he's cute. Remember when he gifted you that big sunflower for your graduation?" 

"Yup. It was so nice spending the rest of the day in the hospital ward with a bag of cortisone attached to my arm."

"You're too hard on Son." She slips out from her pajama, kicking it aside. 

"Can we just drop it? Now please help me throw your shit in the boxes like you should have done a week ago. Seriously, how can you live in this chaos--- Hey! Is that my purse?!"

"No?"

"I've been searching for it for over a month! Ugh." Chichi stalks toward Bulma, snatching the bag from her hands. "Thief."

"It's the only nice thing I've ever borrowed! Your wardrobe looks like my aunt's… and she's in her eighties."

"Oh really? Don't let me even get started on yours. Nightclub ladies have more taste." 

The sound of Bulma's phone cuts off her next ugly comment. She reaches for it, loading off herself on the bed on her belly. 

**08:00 Vegeta:** You left your underwear on my bed.

She smiles, swinging her legs back and forth like a schoolgirl. " _So romantic_."

"Who?" Chichi interjects, "oh no wait. Don't tell me. Porn chat number 1? 2? 3… or Vegeta?"

"He says my panties are on his bed." 

"Ohh, what a klutz you are. Bet you left your invisible bra in his drawer?"

"Oh, fuck off. It's a game."

"Yup. That has been going on for how long… three years? Hey, can I be the bridesmaid at your wedding or will you pick Cherry?"

"Who the fuck is Cherry?"

"My imaginary friend." 

Bulma throws a cushion at Chichi.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going. Tell Vegeta to clean up his mess when you guys are done with your astral love making. Okay?"

"I swear to God, Chichi!"

The ravenette closes the door behind her, hardly stifling a fat laughter.

 **08:05 Bulma:** Oh really? That's why I felt so… breezy when I came back home. Hopefully, it was not my favorite. Are they pretty?

 **08:06 Vegeta:** you tell me.

 **08:07 Bulma:** Mhhh… I remember wearing that sexy red lacy thong, or was it the black guepierre?

 **08:07 Vegeta:** second one. Thongs make your ass fat.

 **08:07 Bulma:** Refined taste and shitty personality. That's my man.

 **08:09 Vegeta:** yours indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the wonderful Rogue for beta-ing the chapter. Love you bby!


	4. Chapter 4

"So told him he had to suck my momma's tiddies… and now what he replies? That he had already! Never been so close to murdering someone-"

"Mornin' princesses!" The door swings open, revealing a tower of flesh whose rippling muscles seem to dance at the rhythm of his steps. The sunlight filtering from the high shutters bounces on his bald head. Chewing on a pastry, he stops in his tracks, framing a peculiar show. "Raditz, who the fuck are you talking to?"

"Oy, Nap. Can't you tell?"

"A wall?"

"Nope. Vegeta."

The older man quirks a bushy brow, turning toward a window panel showing a third man standing a few meters away; in the adjacent shooting range room. "Did you smoke crack?"

Raditz walks past him, stealing the pastry from his hand and dropping down on a chair, "I wish. Figured I'd just chat with the wall since tryin' to pull out words from that walkin' grave's like hoping for a promotion."

"Sounds like I might need a transfer soon. I always end up paired with weirdos. And give that back. That's my breakfast/lunch/dinner." 

"Well good luck. Filed one two years ago and I'm still stuck with you." 

"Never a joy."

"You said that, man."

"What's up with the ice block?" 

"The hell I know? You're the nanny. I'm the guy who talks with walls. Dunno, he's been shut in there since this morning. Soon enough we'll be out of targets if he keeps drillin' all of 'em."

"Any news from upstairs?" 

"Kidding me? The upper echelons hate us."

"Woah, Woah. Sheathe that vocabulary, amigo. Trying to kill my brain?" The bald man drags a seat under his ass, and drops on it. "Man, I'm swamped. Last night's blitz… blitzed me."

"You did basically nothing. Just ran a few blocks pretending to be cool and let the other guys do the job. Ain't life sweet for you?"

"Oh, fuck off. There's nothing exciting about showing up to a rave party if you're not a guest. I miss breaking doors down and shooting at legs. All we deal with these days are drug rookies. So sad."

"Be happy you still have a job. Don't even know why this department needs a S.W.A.T at all."

"I wonder," Nappa lights up a cigarette, poofing out the smoke in perfect circles.

Raditz shakes his head. "Wouldn't do that before a drill, pal. You know you don't get to stop 'till tonight right? And Vegeta is in a bad, bad, bad mood."

"Listen kid, l don't even remember the last time I had sex-"

"Was it before or after WWI?"

"Die. Anyways, I just have _this one_ pleasure left in my life. So shut the fuck up."

"You'll love the cancer." 

"That I'll give to your balls if you don't fucking-"

The door next to them whispers open, at the squeak of boots both interlocutors stop chattering, turning toward the pair of stormy eyes fixated on them.

" _This is going to be a long, ugly day._ " Nappa mutters under his breath, "Hi Prince _ss._ Finally got off the prom?"

The shortest man of the tree flings a gun at Nappa, who catches it immediately. "Clean that and replace the targets. You're in charge of the housework today, fairy godmother. Thank your mouth and that shit in it."

"You're kidding me right?"

"Told you he was in a bad mood," Raditz counters, sotto voce.

"Did I stutter? Get started. Raditz," it's enough a nod of the head for the other to stand up, swallow the remains of Nappa's meal and go retrieve the gears.

The bald man clicks his tongue as Vegeta walks past him. "So you're making me skip the drills because your ass is too tight today?"

Vegeta stops in his tracks, turning over his shoulder to smirk at him. "Who said you were skipping them?"

"You're a bastard."

"You'll have all night to think of a better comeback. Now scram."

\---

 **12:08 Bulma:** _Moved to a new town today. Flying cars? I'm not sure if I got into a taxi or time machine this morning._

 **2:08 Vegeta:** _are you a cavewoman?_

 **2:10 Bulma:** _That's my line. Sarcasm is a thing in this era._

 **11:09 Vegeta:** _Not my thing._

 **11:20 Bulma:** _Took you a whole day to come out with that one?_

 **12:00 Vegeta:** _You know what's also a thing? Real life._

 **12:07 Bulma:** _Sounds like something that could eat you up. OMG, that means you didn't sneak in one of my chats today. Would have loved it. I sexted a whole hour with this guy whose first question was: do your armpits stink?_

 **12:34 Vegeta:** _Were you trying to give me a boner? Because it wasn't successful._

 **12:35 Bulma:** _No. Wanted to extoll a bit of jealousy out of your uptight ass._

 **12:50 Vegeta:** _Just nightmares._

 **01:00 Bulma:** _I just orgasmed at the sexiness of this conversation._

 **01:34 Vegeta:** _Night._

 **02:00 Bulma:** _Hey, hey, hey. Don't I get the sexy goodnight word?_

 **02:35 Vegeta:** _Night, Bulma._

 **03:00 Bulma:** _Oh yes. Give me that, babe. Night, Vegeta._


	5. Chapter 5

**Part I**

Chichi is meticulously aligning their cheap - but glamorous - glassware on a shelf, dangerously balanced on the creakiest chair ever, when Bulma slams the door open, making her yelp and lose half of the glasses on the floor. 

"I just remembered what's the circled day for!" She shouts that at the top of her lungs, excited like a kid on Christmas Eve.

"And I just remembered that I have to call my cardiologist." She glowers at the roommate, and then at the kaleidoscopic mess of shimmering shards at Bulma's feet.

"You don't understand! It's voice day!" 

"Oh. Oh! Ohhhhh!" The china mistress points a finger at her, "you mean today is the day when I talk and you actually listen to what I say?!" 

Bulma purses her lips and stares at her, unamused. "That'll never happen. Anyway, it just means you'll have to stay away from my room for the next twenty-four hours because me and Vegeta are having phone sex. And don't you dare barge in my room like you did last year pretending to be my girlfriend or I swear I'll leave this house and leave all the rent on your shoulders."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh yeah, I would." 

Chichi drops off the chair, walks in front of her and puts both hands on her shoulders. "Baby I'm really, really…  _ concerned _ for you." She exhales, "this… relationship of yours, I see that makes you giddy and everything but… you don't even know who this guy is. For all you know, he could be-"

"Whoever." Bulma continues, "yeah mom, you gave me the talk a thousand times already and for the thousandth time, I tell you that…"

"You don't care, right?" The ravenette removes her hands from her shoulders, shrugging. "Okay, okay. Don't listen then! You never do that, anyway. So, where does he take you this year? Abandoned hut in the woods? Creepy basement? On a romantic Cruise in the Bermuda Triangle?"

"You're such a bitch. At least  _ I have a man. _ " It's a big burn and she knows that, in fact, Chichi squeezes her eyes half-mast, daring her to say that again without words.

"Which equals to not having one, because… uh-oh," she screens her eyes to scope the room, "I don't see him."

"Oh, you're so funny! We… can't see each other." She moves toward the sofa, flopping on it clad in nothing but frilly underwear. 

"Yeah, yeah. The deal and everything. But why would you do that? I still don't get it."

"Can't tell."

"Oh, the perks of being your best friend!" 

"Yeah…" 

Chichi drops the act when suddenly Bulma's face loses shine, and the fleeting ghost of sadness touches her pretty face. She sighs, sits next to her and hauls the friend's head on her shoulder. "See? This is why you should get a real boyfriend." 

Bulma smiles and throws her head backward, cuddling her nape into the crook of Chichi's neck. "Why would I need one? I have the  _ best real girlfriend _ ever."

"Oh right. Should I barge into your room before or after the orgasm?"

"Fuck off, Chichi."

\---

Oh, Hell. Why would she need makeup and her hair done, perfumed candles sprinkled everywhere in the room and the sexiest lingerie a woman can possess if all she's going to listen to is his voice? 

She hasn't talked to Vegeta in a year and doesn't even remember his voice. It's so laughable that she gets so thrilled each time. They haven't texted for the whole day and she has drawbacks. And now is pacing around the room like a moron, cellphone in hand, waiting for midnight to strike.

And when it finally does, her phone is still mute.

And after fifteen minutes, it's still mute.

And even after thirty minutes.

He… has forgotten. Or maybe he's busy. Or maybe he's done with her and perversely chose this day to break up with her? 

"Fine!" She throws the phone on the bed, angrily searching for a cotton pad so she can remove her stupid make-up. Oh, she is such an idiot! She even took a day off for this! Of course, he'd forget, men forget everything. She just remembered today, too. It's nothing special or… or… fucking relevant! 

"And if you expect me to be all heart wrecked about it, you're gravely mistaken, boy!" She yells at the silent phone, "I'm fine! So fine, I'm actually  _ not  _ removing this makeup!", throwing the pad in the trash bin, she twirls around, "actually, I'm going out! And you know what else I'm doing? I'll hit on a man! A real man! With whom I can have real sex! And… and then I'm going to give him my number and-"

The phone rings. 

She stares at it, flabbergasted, for a second.

"If… if you think I'm going to get this call after you-" she jumps on the bed, grabbing that goddamn phone as it was a lifeline and presses the green button so hard it almost breaks the screen.

On the other side of the line, a breathless someone is clearing his throat, she can clearly hear the panting. Just after a few seconds, in which the fumbling sound of clammy hands is the only thing that entertains her, he finally speaks. And all he says is…

"Hi." 

She dies on the bed, cuddling with the pillow like a stupid fangirl or whatever.

"I'm super angry at you," she whispers in the speaker.

"I know." 

"Good. Then make up for it."


	6. Chapter 6

The silence stretches a little too long and her lips quirk downward, twisting a bit. 

"Do you know…" she clears her throat, uncertain, but trying to sound as pissed off as possible "that you have to talk in order to make up for it, right?" She knows why he isn't interacting yet, and teasing him is one of her favorite pastimes. It fends off the nervousness, calms down the butterflies in her stomach - and all the stuff that comes with this person. 

On the other side of the phone, the silence is so thick that she can hear the faint ticking of a wristwatch. And somehow, the fantasy that he's not wearing anything else flutters in her mind for a moment, increasing the beat of her heart. 

He lets out a sharp intake of breath, followed by a longer one, "It's been a while." It's the only reply that he offers, but _God,_ the way he just said that sent shivers down her spine. 

The corner of her mouth slips up slightly, teeth catch the red, cheating lip, to keep it from forming a smile. "Yeah..." She feigns coldness, whereas her voice comes out uncharacteristically sweet as melted candy. "How long do we…"

" _It doesn't matter._ " He cuts her off, and she can tell by the urgency in the reply that what she said has turned him on. He won't tell her how long they can talk this year. He never does. And it's fine like this. 

"Does it?" He asks, voice rumbling low and proprietorial in her ear. 

" _Does it?"_ She parrots him, rolling on her butt to sink the back of her head in the cushion beneath. "Where are you?" While she asks, she turns the speaker on, and one of her fingers slips under the lacy thigh-high on her thigh; she starts rolling the flimsy garment down her knee, moving the phone close to it.

"Locker room." 

"Oh, now I see. You were cheating on me with those long, sexy laps." 

"Maybe." He takes a pause, in which he's clearly trying to suppress a pleasured groan, "...and you're stripping." 

" _M-a-y-b-e._ " She spells it out slowly, syllable after syllable, whilst the stocking leaves her foot and the bed creaks slightly under her weight. On the other side something bangs against a metallic surface; she doesn’t ask, prefers to imagine that’s him leaning against a locker; trickles of sweat wetting his forehead down to sharp cheeks and maybe a strong jawline. She closes her eyes and concentrates on the cusps of breath she can almost feel against the receiver. 

“Are you wearing a uniform?” her query is quick as fingers fly on the other leg, starting to remove the only stocking left. 

“Training gear…” he trails on, muffled this time. Bulma notices the fleshy sound of lips parting. _He’s licking his lips. She does_ the same, imagining the salty aftertaste of sweat on his mouth. 

"It's almost one in the morning and you were still training. I assume you're _all alone_." It's surprising how they settle into the conversation so fast, how _he_ does so. It's only the third time they spoken voice to voice, and until now Vegeta has been a tough nut to crack when it came to loosening up. But today, he sounds _different_ , somehow.

"Keep assuming," he commands raggedly, even if it does sound more like a request to her. His timbre is too secretive, intimate. Something snaps downward, it sounds like a waistband against flesh. 

_Oh God._ She can’t help but picture his hand frugally slipping under sweatpants, and that thought elicits a genuine moan, that she doesn’t hide. And to think she was trying to purposely slow things down, but her body doesn’t seem of the same opinion. He lets out another sharp breath and the heat that had pooled in her belly starts to flow right in between her legs, pulsating with want, so much that she has to clench her tights to relieve the pressure.

“Well, if you are… _alone, then_...” she stresses that word like a sizzling brand, flexing her back and accompanying the phone along the arch of the sternum and her belly, caressing the skin and closing her eyes. "We could _raise_ the _tones_ of this conversation."

The response she gets is a deep, nasal hiss, a sign that Vegeta is probably enjoying what he hears. There's fumbling, and then silence again. "You're on the speaker…" he murmurs, and the sound of his voice reverberates in the room he is in. 

_Now_ it's interesting.

"You know, _Vegeta_ …?" Now she can start her show the way he wants it. The way _they_ want it. Starting from her voice, slowing vowels down and letting her tongue rub against the upper lip, to create that pleasurable wet sound she knows sends him bonkers. " _Oftentimes_ , _I imagine how kissing you would be."_ Her tongue slips between her teeth, _"on your lips, on your face, on your arms, on your hands, on your belly… on your…"_ she stops, opening and closing her mouth slowly around a finger and sliding it into it until it comes out again with a soft pop.

She knows he won't reply, he doesn't let out his private thoughts as openly, but she doesn't need to know with words what she can hear. He's murmuring a distracted assent, and breathing with his mouth. She imagines he has his eyes closed now, imagines him… nodding dreamily against the locker, with his head slightly bent backward and his Adam's apple bobbing at each swallowed sound. " _And thinking that...arouses me."_ Her now wet finger moves on her chin, down the curve of her neck and chest, leaving a trail of saliva behind.

" _When I imagine our first kiss,"_ she continues, languid, with her eyes still closed, and moaning like she'd do when stretching in the morning. _"It's soft, mouths just hovering close, to let us steal each other's breathes just a second more. And then… then you look at me in a way that knocks out the little air I've left. Intensely. Brush against my upper lip, slowly, still watching me. And that would make me need that mouth of yours on mine, again and again… again… and... again…"_

She can hear the slow motion of his hand rubbing against moist skin, and that's her cue to move that finger between her legs, bypassing the elastic band of her panties and finally feeling the skin under it, caressing the soft tuft of hair before reaching her clit. Which she still doesn't touch, preferring to draw invisible circles around the sensitive area.

" _And then, my hand would move on your firm chest. It'd be sweaty… and I'd wonder if it's because of your drills… or because of me."_

She bits her upper lip, as the tip of her finger finally moves on her clitoris, pushing the flesh downward, rubbing it. 

Their breaths sync for a second, as if they'd just decided to hold it a bit longer then let it out in a needy, stifled moan. She can hear Vegeta swallowing saliva, and then, that rattled " _don't stop…_ " totally undoes her. His voice is brokenly sexy, ravenous in a way, like hot water poured on snow. _To hell with slowness_ , her finger rubs more vehemently now, strongly. 

"A _nd…_ and… **you'd…** " it's become hard to control her voice, which raises and falls, in between gasps. " _Move your hand on my hair,_ and, oh… God… card your fingers in it and… and..." 

And suddenly Vegeta's breathing is not there anymore. 

Her eyes snap open, and she quickly looks at the phone… at its… black screen.

 _Oh no_.

_Oh no._

The battery is dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the precious [ Rogue_1102](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogue_1102/pseuds/rogue_1102) for beta-ing this for me!
> 
> Since I'm here, I'd like to suggest you to visit her page (click on the nickname 💞) and read her works (all of them! She's a really super talented writer, I assure you'll like every one of them!)


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